Soul's Vengeance
by Sage Pagan
Summary: After Julia disappears, Hwoarang, accompanied by Xiao,sets out to find her. But what begins as a simple quest for his best friend unfolds into a deeper world of magic, darkness, and destruction. Written with Dynasty021.
1. Awakening

Hey guys! This is Sage Pagan with her very first fantasy Tekken story here at the site. Xjmaster and I are writing this fic together--we exchange our ideasand I do the writing. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Awakening **

Women are a mystery, a peculiar, powerful mystery, for they alone possess the ability to create life within and bring it forth from their wombs. In these days, men revered this sacred power, loved their women for it, and it was this gift of creation that made the woman so respected, and sometimes, feared.

For women are strong in ways men may never understand…

And so it began, some say, in the land called Elysium. Elysium was a peaceful realm, filled with beauty and joy and good-hearted people. The birds sang their sweetest here; the sun shone its brightest; Mother Earth beamed with life, her trees abundant with fruit and her flowers blinding in their color; overall, men and women existed in peace. Violence and hatred were rare, rare things in this land.

And yet, always, there must be shadows among the light to keep the balance. Elysium was far from perfect, for she possessed flaws like everything does. However, it was at this time that the balance was disturbed, and a new world began to take form…

Within Elysium stood the little village of Sythe, where a mere mortal woman, whose single desire was to conceive a child, lived.

Young Avriell, a beautiful woman of twenty-three with long ebony hair and a joyful demeanor, simply wanted a child of her own. She wanted to feel that miracle inside of her, that magic of life that would make her husband love and revere her, and she wanted to cradle that little life within her arms. She would kiss her child, love it, raise it, name it, and teach it all that she knew.

Yet life can be twisted and cruel, for woman's wonderful gift of childbearing was denied to Avriell. Day by day she watched as women her age bore sons and daughters, how they laughed and smiled with joy, love in their eyes. She watched and coveted, for her womb remained void of life. Why, she often asked herself, am I not bearing children like the others? What is wrong with me?

As the months went by, Avriell still hoped and prayed for a child. But after another year of emptiness, desperation set in as one night young, grief-stricken Avriell took her husband's life, claiming that it was his faulty seed that caused her infertility.

And yet, the months passed by once more and she remained barren. Madness replaced sorrow, all reason vanished, and young Avriell turned to dark sorcery. Driven by her bitterness and hatred, the mortal woman, once a being of light, became of the shadows. She surrendered her soul to the darkness, betrayed the goodness in all things, and in doing so, Elysium was forever tarnished. Its peace had been disturbed, and Avriell had no intention of righting her wrongs. For once a life has seen true evil, it can never return as it once was…

After mastering the dark arts, Avriell returned to her village and in a vengeful rage, set upon it a terrible curse. Wombs remained empty like her own, newborn babes died silently in their sleep, and the sun vanished from the sky. Despair reigned, and Avriell's cruelty prevailed.

Wandering the world alone as the most powerful sorceress, Avriell of the Sythe Village was no more. Reborn from the darkness as Voira, she seeks vengeance upon the earth that denied her the life she desired. To the sorceress, if she could not create life, then she would forge death instead.

And yet there is a story even older and more intriguing than that of Voira's. For far, far before the sorceress' birth into darkness, there came a legend that brought with it hope, light, and life, the very things Voira lives to destroy.

Legend foretells of the sacred birth of a girl child, a mortal who harbored the powers of the earth and all of the spirits of life within her soul. Although her gifts would lie dormant within her for the first years of her life, she would grow to be powerful, more powerful than any other creature the world had seen—possibly even more so than the great Voira herself. She is said to possess the ability to manipulate all of life's spirits, from the smallest green mosses under her feet to the very soul of Mother Earth herself; they are hers to use as she wishes. Life and death are also hers to create. A being of light, she alone holds the key to the eternal destruction of darkness.

And Evil knows it well, and fears the Spirit Child. For thousands of years the powers of darkness have lied patiently in wait, silently anticipating her arrival, waiting for the right moment to eliminate their enemy.

But Destiny would not have it this way. For though the Darkness waited and watched, they heard only silence as a babe's wail pierced the air: a cry of life, a cry of hope. Hidden from Darkness, she grew in safety, reared in a land separated from Evil's world of gloom and despair. And her powers, like the seed of a blossom, remained quiet yet slowly began to germinate within her.

The legend has awakened…

**Twenty-two years later**

It was nearing midday, and the scarlet-haired man sighed wearily. He and his companion, Ling Xiaoyu of the village of Gira, had been traveling since early morning, and still there was no sign of the kidnappers. Julia had been gone for nearly two days now, and Hwoarang felt as if he was traveling in circles. Cursing under his breath, he slammed his weapon onto the ground, the silver blade sliding halfway out from its leather sheathe.

Ling Xiaoyu, a young woman of twenty, sighed and halted. She had yet to get used to Hwoarang's attitude, but she patiently went to his side. The poor man held his face in his hands, and she sat down beside him.

Hwoarang was only twenty-three and belonged to the village of Thade, a little town hidden in the serene forests of Aneira. Thade was relatively close to Gira, home of Xiaoyu and Jin Kazama, and so it had not been too difficult for Ling to track down Hwoarang when she had needed his help.

The scarlet-haired man was bold and impetuous, often brash and too feisty for his own good, and the only person who'd managed to control him was his best friend. Julia Chang, a peaceful, intelligent woman and daughter of Thade's chief, had been Hwoarang's closest companion since Julia was five and Hwoarang six. She was the calm earth to his raging fire, the reasoning voice behind his spontaneity, and though Hwoarang was often hard to handle, she always found ways to reign him in. After experiencing the death of his parents and the teasing from his peers as a youth, Julia (besides his mentor and guardian, Baek) was the only person Hwoarang trusted. She was the keeper of all of his deepest secrets, his hopes and desires, and she was the sole person who knew the true man that lay beneath his "bad boy" charade.

It had been a difficult friendship at first, since Hwoarang had always been the crueler, more cynical one of the two; but in the end, the Native American woman had managed to melt the fear that had molded its way about his heart.

So when she'd suddenly vanished two mornings ago, it had sent him into a panic, more so even than the village. He'd set out that night with only a few provisions, the clothes on his back, and a couple weapons, one being Salvation, the razor sharp, silver scythe he'd mastered at the age of thirteen.

Although young, Hwoarang had been trained to be a skilled warrior, and was used to fighting and bloodshed. Well-known among his village and throughout his country for his prowess with his scythe as well as martial arts, Hwoarang was one of the greatest fighters his part of the region had seen. His forte was Tae Kwon Do, for Hwoarang preferred raw, skin-to-skin combat, and he excelled in the martial arts more so than with steel. However, weapons came in handy now and then as well.

Ling Xiaoyu, however, the girly, immature fighter from the neighboring town Gira, was not used to the battlefield as her fiery companion was. She had trained with and mastered the Phoenix, her long, elegant wooden staff, as a child, and also managed to perfect her martial arts skills as well. Hwoarang had nearly laughed out loud when she'd told him she was a warrior; the girl looked more like she belonged in the fields picking blossoms rather than be a martial artist or weapon wielder. She had not yet won his respect (only one woman in his life had deserved that), and Ling was determined to prove her worth to him.

Having lived a sheltered life, Ling Xiaoyu knew nearly nothing of the world that lay outside the gates of her village. It was a limited view, but that did not mean that she had any less desire to seek out the mysteries of the lands outside. But that was only part of the reason why she'd asked Hwoarang for his help.

Ever since she was a young girl, Xiao had cared very deeply for a certain raven-haired boy in her village. She was fascinated with Jin Kazama; there had been something intriguing about his lonely, serene demeanor. He had struck something within her heart from the very beginning.

Jin was the village orphan and had been raised by a few of the village elders until he could manage to survive on his own. As a child he had been misled and often felt confused; his mother had been pure after all, and his father the exact opposite, the darkness to her light. Both parents being dead, Jin had had no guidance, and he'd refused to listen to the elders that claimed to "know the best for him." As a result, Jin did not know which side to take, and settled for neutrality. Generally, the man leaned towards goodness, but it was futile to ask him to choose a definite side. Thus, it often annoyed his village when a war erupted and he'd refuse to fight, regardless that he was the best warrior among them.

Anyway, Xiao had always secretly loved him but knew no way how to express the feelings. Jin liked her as well; there had always been an attraction burning between them, but unfortunately for Xiao, Jin Kazama was just as unskilled as she in the love category. Fearing rejection and this strange, foreign emotion, Jin settled for solitude and silent longing for the woman. Asuka Kazama, his cousin and only living relative now, along with her parents, often reprimanded him for being so anti-social and "girl stupid." She'd urged him plenty of times to approach Ling and admit his feelings, but Jin had always quietly declined.

Ling gazed up at the sky absentmindedly, listening to Hwoarang curse more under his breath. She closed her eyes, remembering that day two years ago…

Two years ago, Xiao had discovered an unconscious Jin Kazama on the edges of the forest, just a few miles from her house. The skin on his chest and arms had been viciously torn, the gashes deep, and blood oozed in rivers from the wounds. In a panic, the young woman had rushed home for help, fearing that Jin was already dead. Fortunately, the man she loved had miraculously survived, and she'd sat by his side day by day, slowly nursing Jin back to health. A small friendship had formed then, and for the first time in months Jin Kazama heard himself laugh; only Xiao had that kind of effect on him.

A month later, Jin regained his strength and claimed that he didn't remember anything of the attack, only that he had felt an overwhelming sense of evil during that time. Also, the only remnant of that violent encounter was a mysterious tattoo on his left shoulder, the dark, jagged marks etched permanently into his skin.

Ling opened her eyes momentarily as her mind showed her the next memory, and silent tears emerged. She blinked them back furiously, turning away, not wanting Hwoarang to notice. He would only call her a wimp, that or an emotional wussy that wouldn't be able to handle the arduous journey ahead.

The letter had been brief, but it had changed her world from that point on. It was the cause of her journey with Hwoarang.

_Xiao,_

_I'm sorry I did not bid you a decent farewell, but if I had told you I was leaving, I know that you would have managed to stop me somehow. But I need to be alone now, Ling. There are some answers I must find for I cannot keep living this way._

_The Devil Gene, Xiao, that is what I speak of. With every passing day the demon blood within me strengthens, and I have left to find a cure. I promise that as soon as I find one (for there must be one somewhere out there. There is a cure for everything) I will return. Wait for me._

_Know that I am grateful, for you and your family have only shown me kindness in the years that I have been with them._

_And please, Xiao, do not try to look for me. _

_Jin_

And, like Julia Chang, Jin Kazama quietly disappeared, and like Hwoarang, Xiao was on a quest to find a lost loved one. But, since she lacked experience with the outside world, Ling desperately needed Hwoarang's guidance on this journey in order to accomplish her goal.

He'd laughed at her at first, mouth wide, a bitter sound emitting from his throat.

"_You? Ha! _Right, right. Be careful with that stick hon, you might hurt yourself," he'd said, staring at her without an ounce of respect.

"Shut up! You don't understand!" she'd retaliated.

"Understand? I understand enough; you want to find Jin. Well, tough luck, darling, but I don't give a damn about your boyfriend, 'cause you and your pretty pink pigtails will only slow me down. Besides, I hate the bastard. Why should I help you as well as him?"

"Would you think differently if I was Julia?" she'd suddenly blurted, unable to stand it.

Hwoarang turned on her in a rage. "Well, what do _you_ think? Julia is everything you are not. If it was her standing in your place, I would have already said yes."

And for once in her life, Ling was ashamed of who she was. If only she had what it took to please Hwoarang and make him help her. He was her only chance.

"No, please, I need your help. Just…just ask anything of me! Please!"

At this Hwoarang had turned to her, eyes narrowed. He waited for a moment, studying Xiao's face…

"You really do care for Jin, don't you?" he'd murmured.

Ling nodded, averting her eyes. "The rest of my village worry, but they are cowards. They hesitate to go and find him, and I will not wait when I can do something about it. He told me not to follow, but who knows what could have happened to him."

He sighed, relenting. He was unwilling to admit it, but Hwoarang knew exactly how the Chinese woman felt.

"Wow, maybe we do have something in common, Xiaoyu. Well, I'm not a cruel man, but I would like you to do one thing for me if you truly want to come."

Slight fear rippled throughout her skin. What was he going to ask of her? Xiao braced herself, waiting…

Hwoarang sighed, shaking his head. "Maturity, Ling, _maturity_."

Xiao relaxed slightly, but only just. "What?"

The Korean man rolled his eyes. "You heard me. Look, I've seen how you act when you're around people, and it's downright disgusting. All that giggling nonsense, that flirting with what's-his-face, that bullshit frolicking in the meadows—I don't wanna see it. And don't be a wuss; you're entering what we call 'the real world' now, not some fantasyland like it was back in Gira. Understand me?" he'd glowered.

"Yes," she'd replied softly. Hwoarang obviously wasn't afraid to speak his mind, regardless if it hurt others, unlike Jin. Xiao was feisty herself, but she'd have to learn to toughen up if she intended to get along with Hwoarang.

Ling Xiaoyu was naturally bubbly and light-hearted from the beginning, jovial and flirtatious, but, she admit, sometimes it got out of hand. This was obviously the very first aspect about her that Hwoarang noticed, and if she indeed desired his aid, she'd have to somehow obtain maturity while in his presence. It would be difficult at times, but Ling didn't mind. To her it was just one step closer to finding Jin.

So, after that agreement, Hwoarang found himself accompanied by the woman.

Hwoarang sighed heavily, running an idle hand through his scarlet hair. He glanced at the woman beside him, dark hair softly billowing in the breeze. Concealing his annoyance, he rose stiffly from his seat and readjusted the sheathed scythe to his side.

"Do you love her?" Xiao suddenly asked softly.

"What?"

She looked up at him, brown eyes innocent and curious, and Hwoarang suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. She'd always be so childish and naïve in so many ways.

"Do you love Julia?" she repeated before standing.

Hwoarang hesitated, and cursed inwardly for doing so. "Well, not the kind of love you have for that asshole, if that's what you mean."

"His name is Jin," she growled, her hand tightening on her staff. There'd been countless times when she'd had the unbearable urge to strike Hwoarang with her weapon, but, gritting her teeth, Ling knew she would have to learn toleration and patience too.

"Whatever. And no, not in _that_ way…but yeah, I do love Jules. She's my best friend after all, the one person I trust in this goddamn world."

Xiao raised her eyebrows in curiosity. What did Hwoarang have against the world anyway? From her point of view, the world was a gift, a thing of wonder and joy, a place of light and peace, for she had been reared to think that way. But as she stared up at her companion some more, Xiao realized sadly that Hwoarang had obviously found reasons to think otherwise. Jin had as well.

What Xiao did not yet understand was that her perception of the world in which she existed was far, far from correct, for it was definitely not solely filled with peace and goodness. She would later of learn much, much more things than maturity on her quest with the Korean man…

He began to walk again when Xiao asked another question.

"Why her? What makes her so special?"

The Korean man halted and turned to face her.

"How about you shut up and mind your own business? Just because we're travelling together doesn't mean I have to tell you everything," he snarled.

"Touchy," she murmured under her breath, but Xiao quieted, respecting Hwoarang's privacy. Nevertheless, she felt herself smiling; Hwoarang didn't know quite yet just how powerful his feelings for his "best friend" were. She'd let him find out for himself. Love was complicated after all.

Hwoarang continued to walk, but he answered Xiao's question in his mind, silently remembering Julia.

_Because she's not like everyone else. She gave me new eyes to a world I had nearly given up on…_

Xiao was correct in that the world wasn't all rainbows-and-pretty-flowers in Hwoarang's point of view. He had good reasons for his bitterness.

Hwoarang was not very different from Jin in that both men were orphaned at early stages in their lives. Also, the redhead had not been born in Thade. Before Baek had found him and decided to take him under his wing, the young Korean man had lived in a remote village hidden away in the mountains. About twenty-two years ago, most of the inhabitants of that village had perished in a deadly plague, including both of Hwoarang's parents when he was only a year old. Nobody really knew anything about Hwoarang's birthplace, only that it was dangerous to venture there. Not even Baek knew much of it, only that he'd found the little Korean boy wandering aimlessly in the woods not far from the place, crying out for his parents. It was a mystery that many, including Hwoarang, wanted, but feared, to solve. Villages didn't just suddenly become ghost towns out of thin air, especially in a place like Elysium. There had to be some other force involved…

Hwoarang sighed, recalling the time Julia and he had both sneaked out of the village in the dead of night when they were eleven, running and panting with laughter into the far off forests to play. Over time, Hwoarang had developed an appreciation for nature while on these little secret excursions, for Julia had instilled a newfound gentility into his hard temperament.

"You needn't be so heartless and apathetic all the time, Hwoarang," she'd scolded once when a neighbor had passed away in Thade.

"So what? I didn't know him, and he never knew me either, so it ain't my problem. Life goes on, blah, blah, blah," had been his cold reply.

Julia, knowing full well about the tragic events of her friend's past, said softly, "But it was once a life, Hwoarang, don't you understand? Life is precious and fragile; can't you appreciate that?"

He had lost everything twenty-two years ago, so why should he begin to appreciate life's positive aspects now? Julia had tried hard to teach him of such things.

Hwoarang had stared at her long and hard then, thinking, when finally he sighed, "Well…I guess so, Jules. For you, I'll try."

_She gave me new eyes to a world I had nearly given up on…_

"Thanks," she'd replied with a little smile, "I knew you would."

Likewise, Hwoarang had taught Julia to harden up, for she'd always been slightly sensitive and emotional as a child. However, Julia did also get her first serious scolding from her parents after she took some of Hwoarang's "good advice."

Two nights ago Hwoarang had woken to find Julia's house destroyed. Her parents were fine, only a few scratches and bruises from the attackers, but they had been unable to prevent their daughter from being taken. They'd claimed that the men who took Julia had been robed all in black, making it impossible for a clear identification, and that they'd been expert warriors. The village was in a panic, for three other men who had seen the attackers now lay dead as a result of an attempt to rescue the chief's daughter.

Thade was one of Elysium's most peaceful villages, so when violence had suddenly struck, a chain of chaos followed. Fear spread like a disease; thus, the villagers' need to protect themselves overrode the need to rescue the chief's daughter.

"I can't believe this! You're all just a bunch of fucking cowards!" Hwoarang had screamed, running for his home.

"Where do you think you're going?" Baek had inquired when he saw his student violently tearing through his room and shoving food into a bag.

"I'm going after her," was Hwoarang's curt reply.

"Are you crazy? A war has erupted, Hwoarang; it isn't safe to go beyond these gates. You will not be a part of it, do you hear me!"

"What war? When did this happen?"

Baek sighed, covering his face with his hands. "Hwoarang, Thade is only one of hundreds of villages that are being ransacked everywhere. People are being killed and taken away, like Julia…and there are rumors that the Sorceress Voira has arisen."

"Bullshit. Voira's a myth, nothing more," Hwoarang smirked in disbelief.

"But—"

"Shut up, Baek. You don't understand. No one's doing anything about it, not even Julia's own father! Or Michelle!"

"Because they are the leaders! You have to understand that they love their daughter dearly, but they must remain behind to guide their people!" Baek tried to explain, but it was futile.

"Well then that means that I'm her only hope. Voira or not, I'm goin' out there," he'd growled, eyes afire with anger.

"Hwoarang, listen—"

"No, you listen! I don't know what this goddamn war is all about, but I _know_ Julia has nothing to do with it. She's the most peaceful person I know, and when I find the bastards that took her, there'll be hell to pay!"

And with that, Hwoarang had left, leaving the only home he knew.

* * *

Midday began to fade, but the sun was still just as brutal, and Hwoarang wiped sweat off of his brow. He and Xiao had been walking for hours on the same path and still there was not a sign of the attackers anywhere. Everything was so serene, as if none of the violence and death had occurred in Thade. The forest was silent, save for the gentle sway of the tree limbs, their leaves murmuring softly to the air. The damp moss gave way under their feet, leaving behind emerald footprints; a stream trickled gently nearby, and the air smelled of apple blossoms and pollen. It was the epitome of Xiao's happy little world, and yet Hwoarang seemed to see every shadow within it. Even now as she grinned into the woods, Hwoarang's eyes darted back and forth, searching for flaws.

"This is so beautiful," she murmured in awe, staring up at the green canopy, the light playing on her face.

Hwoarang didn't answer, for he was again reminded of Julia. She would have loved this walk. Instead he was stuck with Xiao.

"I think we'll rest here for the night if we don't find some other place," he grumbled, readjusting the sack on his shoulder, "we'll be safe here."

An hour later they found themselves in the open. The forest had disappeared and was now replaced with lush mounds of prairie. Red poppies dotted the path here and there, and the crickets cried softly in the tall grasses.

However, the peaceful quiet was abruptly disturbed by a violent, deafening sound, as if something had collided with the earth. Xiao felt the vibrations travel up her body, and Hwoarang looked around frantically, one hand gripping the end of his scythe for security.

Xiao turned as she saw a thick cloud of black smoke rise into the air off in the distance…

"Look! It's from there," she pointed, directing Hwoarang's gaze.

"What the hell! What do you think happened?" he muttered, relaxing only slightly.

"I dunno."

"Let's go find out. Come on, this way. Julia might be there," he commanded, remembering Baek's words.

Xiao hesitated, looking again at the smoke. Fear and doubt rippled through her, but she followed her companion anyway.

On the way, Xiao asked breathlessly, "Hwoarang, I do not understand. What is happening to Elysium? Why is all of this violence suddenly here?"

Hwoarang glanced down at his companion and replied, "I don't know, Xiao. I honestly don't know. I've never seen anything like this…"


	2. The New World

**The New World **

"And what would you have me do this time, my queen?"

Steve closed his eyes slightly as her pale hand descended to caress his cheek. Luckily for him, he had always been one of Voira's favorites.

The affection was brief, and just as suddenly she withdrew her hand. The blonde man dared not look up, and instead kept his eyes to the ground. He knew well when to show respect, for although he was one of his mistress' favorites, Voira was not afraid to kill anyone she pleased. She had, after all, murdered her own husband, and had sent the entire village of Sythe to their doom.

"The same as the others, my little fox: Destroy them all, leave no survivors. We cannot risk it. The Spirit Child may still walk as we speak," was her cool reply, and her voice reminded Steve of the icy frost in the winter.

"Of course, milady, as you wish," was his obedient response, and the sorceress smiled.

"You have always been so loyal to me, Steve. Of all my men, I trust only you."

"Thank you, milady. You are very kind."

At this Voira frowned. "Some do not think so. Some think me an evil witch, a cold-blooded killer. But I am not that, my little fox. I am merely a teacher, righting the wrongs of Elysium. Vengeance is only half of it. Wouldn't you agree?"

Of course Steve agreed. He always agreed. If he chose otherwise, then he might as well have chosen death.

The blonde man nodded without hesitation, and since his heart had been so greatly warped to love Voira, the man actually believed in her words. The sorceress smiled in contentment, knowing full well that she had him playing in the palm of her hand. He was just another pawn and he didn't even know it.

After all, Steve Fox was Voira's right hand man, and he did everything she ordered him to do. As of now, his task was to ransack villages and murder all that stood in his path, all for the search of the dreaded Spirit Child, the one being that could bring down Voira. Steve, blinded to the sorceress' evil and cruelty, did everything she asked without question. He truly believed himself to be in the right, even when he murdered countless innocents and destroyed numerous homes.

Suddenly, Voira turned on him in a rage. "But tell me Steve: if you are truly so loyal, then why does Thade and Gira still stand! Did I not tell you to destroy them all, to leave no survivors?"

The blonde man recoiled, his features contorted in a mask of fear. Would Voira believe him if he told her the truth? Well, he'd have to try, because if he didn't at least say _something_, she would kill him where he stood.

"Milady, you must listen to m-me—"

Voira lifted her hand slowly, and Steve could see the silver tendrils of light already beginning to form about her fingers and forearm. Just a hint of her magic could kill hundreds of men in one moment, and Steve held up his hands.

"No, wait! Give me a chance!" he pleaded.

The sorceress smiled cruelly, and the silver light faded only slightly. "Speak."

Steve exhaled in relief and began. "Milady, you must first understand that I will forever remain loyal, and I had every intention of destroying Thade and Gira. But…but somehow we could not."

"And how is that possible? They are mere villages inhabited by dim-witted humans! How complicated a task is that? Must I do everything myself!"

"Listen to me. It was not a human that prevented us from infiltrating these villages, but…but magic. There were powerful spells at work around Thade and Gira, and it would not allow my men or me to touch it! Our skin burned every time we attempted to go near."

At this, Voira paused, the silver spell dying beneath her fingernails. She had never heard of this kind of magic surrounding simple villages. No idiot villager was capable of conjuring a spell so powerful after all…unless one of them happened to be the Spirit Child that is.

Was it possible the Spirit Child had created these barriers in Thade and Gira?

"Interesting…is that all?" she whispered.

"No," he continued, "after hours of trying, three of my men, led by Helize, finally created a spell of protection that granted them temporary safety when they entered, just long enough for them to go in for a look, and then return. It was dangerous; they nearly died casting it, but they succeeded."

"So the barrier was strong, not the work of an amateur…and what then?"

"I ordered them to abduct the chief."

"How stupid. Why would you do that?" she snarled, but Steve barreled on.

"Just listen. Since the spell was temporary and since my whole army could not enter, we had to make a plan. My plan was to kidnap the chief and in doing so, Thade would become leaderless; thus, it would weaken. Either that, or it would lure their people out of the village, away from the magic's protection. And when the villagers come seeking their chief, they will all meet their end at my sword's blade."

Voira thought awhile for a moment, then uttered, "The same for Gira?"

"Yes, though I do not know the outcome of that village yet."

The sorceress closed her eyes, pondering all of this. After awhile, she smiled slightly.

"You are cunning as well as loyal, Steve; your name suits you well. Good work. I apologize for my outburst," she said softly, and Steve bowed in response.

"Of course, milady, but I am glad we have reached an understanding."

"And did you succeed in obtaining Thade's chief?" the sorceress inquired, eyebrows raised.

At this, the blonde man smiled slyly. "It succeeded very well, milady, for we did not get the chief himself; we got his daughter. It was Helize's idea."

Voira smiled coldly, thinking it over. Why, she wondered, why would Helize want to take away a mere girl when she had the perfect opportunity to take the leader? However, Voira knew Helize well; she was an intelligent woman and would have her reasons. The sorceress decided to accept her actions and question the warrior later.

"Well, then I shall thank Helize for her wisdom. I hadn't thought of that one before."

Steve, fearing the worst for Helize, immediately interjected, "Milady, please, I'm sure Helize has a good reason for taking the girl instead of the chief—"

Voira laughed softly, shaking her head. "You need not worry, Steve. I will not hurt Helize; I only want to ask her a few questions. The girl is rebellious, but she serves me well, and her skills are needed in this war."

The blonde man sighed with relief. Steve was a good leader and did not want to lose another of his warriors.

"But it's such a pity that she has her eyes for that idiot Krad…" Voira murmured, but Steve did not hear.

"So, then we shall keep the chief's daughter alive until Thade comes to claim her," said Voira, turning her thoughts away from her female servant.

"That is my plan. She is on her way now, with a different band of my men. I have ordered them to keep her out of harm's way."

"Good. I would very much like to see this daughter of the chief. And what is next, Steve?"

"Barydia, milady."

Barydia was one of the larger villages in Elysium, and it was nestled within a deep valley surrounded by hills of tall grasses and wild flowers, unlike the hidden, forest-covered lands of Thade and Gira. Therefore, without the trees or any magic for protection, Barydia, although large, was easily destroyed.

Steve had come with some three hundred of his soldiers, and at the end of midday, the slaughter began. First, it had begun with the explosion of the chief's home, killing him immediately, and it was this sound that had alarmed Hwoarang and Xiao earlier.

As Steve's killings continued, blood flowed in rivulets down the roads, scarlet splashes upon white stones, and Barydia was overwhelmed with the dead and the dying. Cries of terror and pleads for mercy pierced the sky; flames licked and gnawed at homes, devouring all in its path, and children fled with tattered dolls clutched close to their breasts. Mothers wept, calling for their children and their husbands, and fathers tried in vain to retaliate. But resistance and escape did not matter, because all, children and elderly alike, fell to Steve and his army. The blonde man had become an expert at extermination and was known to take no prisoners, to leave none alive. It was the word of Voira herself, and he could do nothing but obey—obey, or die.

The sky blackened with the smoke, and as Hwoarang and Xiao came at last upon the doomed village of Barydia, they found only death and chaos.

"Come on!" Hwoarang cried, unsheathing his weapon and thrusting it into a nearby soldier. Blood burst forth, staining the Korean man's hands a deep crimson. "Look for Julia!"

"Right," Ling whimpered softly to herself. But no matter how fearful she was, Xiao was determined to prove herself. So, with staff in hand, she restrained her fear and began to fight back.

Meanwhile, Steve was off by himself harassing a family of three. They had seemed harmless enough, an old man, a younger one, and a woman, but to Steve's surprise, all three were skilled martial artists. Although elderly, the older man was swift in his attacks, almost as much as the younger man was, and Steve gritted his teeth in an effort to defeat them. However, it was the woman that had shocked him, for she fought more fiercely than the other two. Hair flying and teeth bared, body moving in lightning quick motions, she reminded Steve of a wounded tigress he had once been forced to kill. Her eyes were wild with rage, body swaying, legs lashing out in a flurry of kicks…not to mention she was the most beautiful woman Steve had ever seen.

Finally, growing weary of the elderly fighter, Steve lowered his fists and took the easy route—and thrust his broadsword into the belly of the old man.

"Grandfather!" the woman and the man both shrieked as the elderly man collapsed, blood spilling from his midsection.

The woman immediately went to her grandfather's side while the younger, burly man faced Steve. His face was a mask of fury as he attacked, and Steve suddenly found himself slammed onto the ground as the man swept his feet out from under him. The boxer recovered swiftly, but his attacker had managed to disarm him, and the blonde man watched as his sword was thrown out of reach several feet away. Steve cursed under his breath and grunted in pain as the younger man straddled him, his weight squeezing the air out of Steve's lungs.

"Eddy! Be careful!" the woman cried, cradling her dead grandfather in her arms. Tears streamed down her face, blood stained her hands and clothes, and somehow this terrible picture stirred something strange within Steve. He had seen death and sorrow many times, so why did this certain woman make him feel this way?

"Run, Christie! This bastard is mine now!" Eddy barked, but Christie shook her head.

"No, I'm not leaving you. Just kill him quickly and let's go!"

"Not quite yet. I want him to suffer, to feel the pain he has brought upon us!" Eddy cried, and he picked up a nearby shard of glass.

But just as the Brazilian man raised the glass above his head in preparation for the killing blow, Steve managed to roll out from under him. And then there was only the sound of Christie's cries of horror as Steve found his sword, and without another moment's hesitation, plunged the blade into Eddy's spine. The Brazilian man died instantly, silently, eyes wide open in a frozen mask of pain, and Steve quickly removed his sword. The stench of freshly spilled blood wafted up into the air.

This time, Christie did run.

Exhausted from his fight with the three, Steve didn't bother chasing after her and instead yelled, "Seize her! Don't let her get away!"

A moment later, the woman screamed once again as she found herself trapped. She unleashed a flurry of kicks, fought bravely for only a short while, but then collapsed in exhaustion and terror. Two men immediately took both of her arms and pinned them behind her, and just as one of them unsheathed his dagger, Steve approached.

"No! Don't hurt her! Release her," he commanded, and the soldiers dropped Christie's arms.

With her hair disheveled, clothes and arms covered in blood and eyes afire with hatred and fear, Christie Monteiro found herself to be the sole survivor of Barydia. She was alone now, had lost everything, her home, her family, her joy, now her freedom…but though she knew this, she glared defiantly up at the man who had destroyed her life. Steve may have taken it away, but she had some fight in her yet; she would not let this blonde monster get the best of her.

Steve approached her slowly, breath ragged and hands stained with Eddy's blood. Christie glared at him from behind the loose strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes, heart beating rapidly with the adrenaline and a sudden desire to lash out and kill him where he stood. But the Brazilian woman realized that she did not want to die just yet, and if she tried to resist now, they would only kill her. Besides, she was greatly outnumbered, and to give Steve a nice, quick death was too merciful. It was best to wait. She would have her revenge…but not just yet.

"What is your name?" the blonde man asked quietly.

In response, Christie spat in his face.

As Steve wiped away a wad of spit from his cheek, she snarled, "Christie Monteiro; that name means little to me now. You have taken away everything I had, so why should a mere name matter to you?"

The blonde man had no answer for that one and instead motioned for one of his soldiers to chain her hands together. Christie complied—but not without a fight. She knew now that Steve had no intention of killing her, so why not get in a few easy kicks? Dodging a fist, then a blade, Christie wedged her knee up into a man's groin, then caught another under the chin with a twisting handstand. She fought so viciously that Steve had to shackle her himself, and even that simple task was difficult.

"We move on now. But listen closely: _nobody_ touches her. Do so, and I'll not hesitate to cut off your sword hand," Steve threatened his soldiers, then turned again to Christie.

"If you be quiet and follow along, and if you stay by my side most of the way, you will be safe from these men," he said, shoving the key to the shackles into his pants pocket.

"Let them do as they like," she sneered, "I do not need you to protect me. But yes, I do suggest that you keep me under watch, for one dark night you might just find your throat slit."

Steve rolled his eyes as he took hold of the chains.

"I may be helpless now," she continued, "but know that I _will_ have my revenge."

In response, Steve merely yanked on the chains that held her, dragging her along. He admired her courage and her spirit, but also knew that he had been the one to dampen it. Sighing, he pushed the thought out of his mind. Why the hell was he feeling this way anyway? She was so beautiful, so fierce…but she was also just another insignificant human that he'd been ordered to get rid of.

Later on, as Christie had calmed down some and Steve's men made their way to the Gray City—Xerick—to rest from the journey, one of his soldiers asked, "Sir, why are we letting her live? She is a mere woman and should be killed like the rest."

"Silence. I have my reasons, and you will not question my actions again. Do you understand?" Steve barked, and the soldier instantly quieted.

Steve turned to look at his prisoner and found that she was staring at him.

"You should thank me. Without me, you'd be dead," he sneered, yanking on the chain.

Christie stumbled forward, but retorted, "Murderers do not deserve my thanks. Besides, I am not afraid of death like you are."

Steve suddenly stopped in his tracks and pulled on the chain so hard Christie crashed into his chest.

"You're bold…but stupid. What makes you say that?" he growled, bringing his face close to hers.

Christie smirked, "Men like you who kill innocents for a living are cowards and nothing more. Does it make you feel big and powerful when you kill children? And tell me, who is your leader? How much does he pay you for every life you take? Or does he just threaten you with death to make you do everything he wishes?"

At this, Steve lifted his hand in a sudden temptation to smack her across the face. Christie did not even flinch as he did so, but the blonde man eventually lowered his hand.

"Think about it," the Brazilian woman whispered, and moved away from him.

And Steve did, for a long, long time. With her words playing over and over in his mind, he knew that the Brazilian woman was right.

**Meanwhile, in Voira's home...**

"Enter."

The door opened and a slender woman robed in scarlet stepped through into the hall. Her face was stoic, her eyes cold, full lips hard and emotionless, and she bowed her head in respect as she reached her mistress. At only eighteen years of age, the talented mage and warrior, Helize Vermilion, had become a beautiful woman. She was not nearly as lovely as Voira was, but for a mage Helize was a vision. Ebony hair fell to her shoulders and among the dark locks were streaks of blood-red strands; her unusual hair was only one of the signs of the magic in her blood. With eyes like dark pools of obsidian, and slightly bronzed skin from having traveled out in the sun with Steve's men, mortals and mages alike desired her. However, Helize possessed no interest in them for her heart belonged to one man only…

Her job was to kill, and she did it well—often _too_ well. But that was precisely why Voira had bestowed the gifts of magic upon her.

Helize had once been a mere mortal, but after Voira found her, the sorceress believed she deserved much more. Only a privileged few of Voira's servants got the chance to possess the ability to conjure magic, and Helize had been one of them. Voira, having sensed strength and uniqueness within her pupil, had decided that Helize was much too intelligent and advanced to become a mere soldier like Steve. Yes, Steve was smart, he was a good leader and a talented fighter, and he'd proved useful to the sorceress. However, his mind did not work like Helize's. Helize, though young, did not just act as a killer; she thought like one, lived the lifestyle, killed without hesitation, and thus proved to be alarmingly dangerous. And now, with the dark arts coursing through her veins, the young mage was even deadlier than before.

"Milady Voira," she murmured with another bow, and the sorceress motioned for her to rise.

"Helize, my child, how is it with you?" Voira inquired softly.

"Well, milady, very well. And yourself?"

"I am doing fine. But I did not call you here to tell you that now did I."

Helize smiled slightly. "No, milady, of course not. And what may I do for you?"

"Nothing for the moment. Just answer my questions."

"As you wish."

Voira leaned back in her seat and studied the woman before her. "I recently spoke with Steve about the raid against Thade and Gira. He told me about Thade, of your plan to take the daughter instead of the chief. Explain this to me. I am interested in your reasoning."

Helize swallowed. Though she was another of Voira's favorites, she too had to be cautious in everything she said and did.

"At first I had planned to go along with Steve's idea, and that was to abduct the chief, milady. But when I found the chief's home, I sensed something stronger within. I have never felt such powerful magic in my life, milady Voira, and the source, I believe, was coming from the daughter," Helize explained calmly.

The sorceress narrowed her eyes in thought. "Go on."

Helize licked her lips. "But what was strange was that the feeling was only very brief. I doubted myself many times, for the power coming from this girl was inconsistent. I felt it in small, sharp bursts, but then just as quickly it would die again. I wanted to know more about this peculiar feeling, so I took her instead of her father."

"You could be wrong, Helize. The source of the power may have been coming from somewhere else," Voira said softly.

"I knew that, but I was willing to risk it. She is only a human after all; her life is expendable. But even if the source of the magic I felt is indeed from elsewhere, she still remains useful to us as Thade's bait."

"True…yes, I understand. Helize…"

"Yes?"

Voira's ice blue eyes pierced into the mage's dark irises, and Helize took a small step backward. The sorceress was unpredictable, and Helize feared that she had done something to upset the witch…

"Do you think, perhaps, that this woman you captured is the Spirit Child?"

Helize concealed her relief and answered, "No, milady, absolutely not; that I am sure of. If she had been the Spirit Child, I would have killed her upon sight. Also, the amount of magic within her was much, much too weak to cause any harm, and we both know that the Spirit Child is capable of more than that. However, the small bit of magic I sensed within her is not to be ignored."

"Yes, of course…also remember that the Aneira Forests are located close to Thade too, and the trees possess very strong magic. It is possible that this woman just accidentally absorbed some of the trees' powers."

"It makes sense, milady," replied Helize, "but do not worry. I will have her figured out once she arrives."

"Take your time, Helize. She might be a harmless tree-hugging mage, but I want to know every single thing about her. Understand?"

"Of course."

"Good. You're dismissed."

The mage was just about to turn to go when Voira said something else.

"Oh and Helize, stop following Krad around. He is a waste of your time."

"I do not understand," came Helize's lie, but Voira merely laughed.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Helize. I have seen the way you look at him. A gifted mage such as yourself is worth much more than that joke of a warrior. Love will only weaken you."

Helize merely bowed and strode out.

**The ruins of Barydia...**

"Xiao! Hey Xiao! Where are you!"

Hwoarang's hoarse voice echoed throughout the silence. His face was smudged with dirt, and he clutched his left arm where blood trickled from a small but deep gash. Sweat plastered his hair to his face, and the smoke caused him to choke and cough occasionally. Nevertheless, he continued to search for Ling.

Barydia was now reduced to ashes and crumbling stone; what used to be a large, beautiful village was now nothing but smoking ruins. Crows and vultures circled in the sky, seeking an easy meal off of the dead villagers, and the earth beneath Hwoarang's feet was stained a deep vermilion.

And as the Korean man laid his eyes on a dead woman on the ground, eyes closed peacefully, Hwoarang was reminded of his home twenty-two years ago. Biting his lip until it bled, he forced the terrible memories away and began to run. His arm ached from the wound and he was exhausted from the recent battle, but he had to find Xiao. He wouldn't admit it to her, but Ling had grown on him a little. She was like his younger sister, and Hwoarang found himself worrying about her despite the fact that she still annoyed the crap out of him at times.

"Ling! Ling Xiaoyu!" he screamed again.

Then, up ahead, he saw a pink form kneeling on the ground. Picking up his pace, Hwoarang soon reached Xiao, and noticed that cradled in her arms was a little girl. She'd been killed with an arrow through her heart, yet she seemed only to be deep in slumber. Xiao sobbed against the lifeless child's forehead and pressed her fiercely to her chest.

"Oh, Xiao," Hwoarang managed to say, and he placed a comforting hand on her back.

The Chinese woman's sobs could not be quelled, but she managed to hiccup, "W-Why? Why is this happening? It's one thing to kill a man but…but this is a child_. A child, Hwoarang, look at her_!"

"I'm sorry, Ling, I'm so sorry. I didn't know either, I didn't know…"

"This is sick and wrong; I can't believe this!" she shrieked.

Her world had been shattered. For the first time Xiao saw the flaws of her peaceful life. She now understood Hwoarang's cynicism. This dead girl child was only the beginning to the darkness that waited, and Xiao knew that more evil yet lurked on the journey ahead.

Ignoring the pain in his arm, Hwoarang pulled his companion away from the dead little girl.

"Come on, Xiao. We're leaving," he coaxed, putting an arm around her shoulders, but she would not be consoled.

"We have to bury them. I can't leave them like this."

"Look, I'm sorry you had to see all of this, but Ling, we gotta keep moving. Those killers have already left and they might hold the clue to where Julia is. Come on," Hwoarang explained, but Ling pulled away.

"Julia can wait. Even Jin can wait. We're the only ones these poor people have now, and they deserve to be laid to rest properly," she protested.

The redhead glanced down at the little girl on the ground again, and he remembered Julia's words.

_"…it was once a life, Hwoarang, don't you understand? Life is precious and fragile; can't you appreciate that?" _

Sighing, he surrendered. "Ok. But only if you help me bandage my arm up."

Ling nodded and quickly wrapped up Hwoarang's bleeding arm.

After hours of burying the dead, the two companions continued onward, following the trail Steve's soldiers had left behind.

The peaceful world that was Elysium was no more.


	3. Innocent Blood and Yellow Roses

**Innocent Blood and Yellow Roses **

"My mother used to tell me that in every dark shadow there is the light."

"Well your mother clearly doesn't know shi—uh, anything."

The Native American woman smacked her friend hard on the shoulder in response.

"Just listen, will you?" she asked, glaring over at Hwoarang.

Both of them lay sprawled on the grass with their hands behind their heads, gazing up at the moon as it rose languorously over Thade's forests. None of the townspeople knew the two were here, and it was these nights of solitude that Julia and Hwoarang enjoyed most. A soft breeze stirred, momentarily silencing the frogs' lullabies down in the creek, and the clouds growled a complaint as thunder erupted overhead, rumbling with the advent of rain. In the distance, a lone wolf sang a haunting melody that chilled the hearts of the two companions.

"Tell that thing to shut up," the redhead whispered half-heartedly, though in truth he enjoyed the sound.

"Did you hear me, Hwoarang?"

The Korean man closed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Fine, I'll listen. But if I fall asleep—"

"—I'll just slap you awake," Julia finished with a little smile as her friend made a face.

"Anyway," she sighed, turning her gaze skyward once more, "there is light in every shadow. I think she was trying to tell me never to give up, to make the best of every situation."

'_You have something inside of you, Julia, something nobody else possesses. I'm not sure what it is, but I have sensed it since your birth. Don't let anyone take it away from you. Be the light among the shadows.'_

Julia recalled her mother's words, wondering what they'd meant.

She glanced over at her friend, who seemed to have fallen asleep, and shook her head at the peaceful expression on the Korean man's face. But she continued anyway, knowing that even if Hwoarang refused to listen, speaking her mother's words out loud might help her to understand them.

The silver moon disappeared as a cluster of dark clouds moved in to usurp the sky. Veins of jagged lightning danced across them and a second later thunder roared.

"Mom told me once, on a cloudy night like this one, that one day Elysium will change, for no matter how we wish it so, peace can never last forever. Darkness will always return to test its boundaries."

"'I sense change coming, Julia,'" the Native American woman murmured, repeating Michelle's words, "Shadows…shadows…'"

Closing her eyes, she continued, "And it scared me, Hwoarang, it scared me when my mother, the bravest woman I know, said that to me. She's probably just lying, but then again, why would she say such a thing?"

The sky was now pitch black and the steady hum of the frogs increased, urging the rain on.

"I'm not stupid; I know bad things are out there. I don't want to see them, but then at the same time I _do_. I want to see those 'shadows' and somehow stop them before they get to my mother so that she can continue to believe in peace and stop scaring me all the time. Do you get what I mean?"

Julia sighed sadly, shaking her head as Hwoarang shifted in his slumber. "Of course you don't. It's a shame you don't have anyone important enough to you to feel that way."

The first raindrops began to descend from the sky then, and Julia closed her eyes, relishing the cool wetness on her clothes and skin.

All the while, the wolf had continued to sing its lonely anthem to the night. She listened for awhile to the sound, wondering again about Michelle's words and about why Hwoarang hadn't even respected her enough to listen. Oh well. It was Hwoarang after all.

But suddenly, taking Julia by surprise, a strong hand moved to clasp tightly about hers. Turning, she noticed that the redhead was wide awake, perhaps had been the entire time, and his dark eyes were soft as he looked at her.

"I have _you_, Jules."

**_Present time, the road to the Gray City_**

The memory, which had occurred just two days before her abduction, faded from her mind as her captors gave her chain a violent yank, pulling Julia to her feet.

"Rise and shine!" one of her kidnapers snickered as he shoved her to a standing position.

It was nearing dawn, and the ground beneath Julia's body was icy cold with the remnants of the night frost. She had been given a flimsy blanket, but she might as well have slept naked, for the freezing breath of the oncoming autumn had entered her body nonetheless, chilling her sleep. Several scratches lined her arms and legs, and both wrists were bruised a deep violet from the iron manacles that clasped about them; her kidnapers had not been kind nor gentle when they'd taken her, which she had expected. Unaware of the magic within her, Julia had yet to find out who her captors were and why they had taken her; she did not yet know that it was this unrealized power inside her that had aroused the suspicions of Helize, leading to her abduction. Julia did not know many, many things about herself at this time. She knew simply that she was innocent and that these were, unfortunately, the "shadows" her mother had spoken of.

Julia Chang, nature lover and often cruelly dubbed by her peers as the "dorky little tree hugger," knew the land like no one else. Apart from being half Native American, Julia had always had a natural sense of direction built into her, and her mother, Michelle, had fed that gift by teaching her daughter the tracking skills of her ancestors.

And as she and her captors traveled onward through the dense, dark woods, Julia had no idea where she was going—but she did know exactly how to get back, regardless of where they took her. Her kidnapers had taken her freedom and her hands, but they had foolishly allowed Julia her eyes to observe her scenery. Even now the dark irises darted discreetly back and forth, memorizing the path, engraving the way into her mind, remembering each smell of pine and change in scent, studying each tree she saw, each creek bed and boulder…

She was also a skilled warrior, the best female martial artist and archer in Thade in fact. Repulsed by the idea of close contact when it came to weapons, Julia instead chose Gaia, the swift and silent bow and arrows over the sword or the staff; her only weapon for close contact battles were her martial arts, and for Julia that was enough. She and Hwoarang had been training partners as children and also into adulthood, and sparring with him as well as Michelle's teachings, had helped her to excel in fighting.

The cool morning breeze helped to wake Julia as she was pulled from the ground, and for an extra jolt back to consciousness, the man holding the chain to her shackles again yanked violently so that she stumbled forward.

"She's _beautiful,"_ one man murmured behind her, cocking his head as his eyes roved up and down Julia's figure, "It's a shame she's untouchable."

"Control yourself, Yaro. There'll be plenty of brothel girls for you once we get to Xerick," growled the leader of the band, and his steely gaze penetrated the man named Yaro. "Besides, Helize will have your head."

"Naw. Helize is too busy mooning over that creep Krad," Yaro sneered, "she won't notice. Besides…"

Yaro then approached Julia, bringing his face close to hers. "I wanna repay her for that bruise she gave me."

Julia smiled, noticing the purple and blue lump on the man's jaw.

"Then be my guest," the commander snarled, drawing his sword, "touch her."

"All right, all right. Relax, Boss. Just admiring the scenery that's all," Yaro said with a wry smile, then retreated to his place behind Julia.

Men like Yaro were rampant among the armies of the sorceress. Most were just vagabonds recruited from the gutters, crooks and thieves who needed a cheap thrill, or worse, murderers and assassins who needed something to do. Voira found them all, for the more crude and bloodthirsty, the better. Of course there was also the rare handful of mages, like Helize Vermilion, the occasional genuinely skilled warriors, such as Krad, and a few true loyalists, for instance Steve Fox. But mostly, the armies of the dark sorceress consisted of ragged thugs who simply held a grudge against society and desired to wreak havoc on Elysium's goodness.

While on this journey Julia had felt fear only in the beginning when Steve's men had suddenly seized her from Thade. But now, knowing that these men could only drag her along, knowing that they would not kill her (or worse), Julia no longer felt fear. She wondered, yes, worried, but did not fear.

She didn't worry too much for her parents or her people, for her kidnapers had, for some odd reason, left them alone (she was still unaware of the mysterious force field that had protected them). But for the past four days her mind had not ceased to worry for her best friend for she knew that right now he was scouring the land for her. However, she hoped that Hwoarang had, for just this once, remained his selfish self and stayed in Thade where it was safe. Unfortunately, although the Korean man didn't show it much, he cared about her and Julia knew, with a heavy heart, that he was somewhere out there looking for her.

After nearly an hour of nonstop walking, Julia and her band of kidnapers arrived in the city the commander had called Xerick. There were no trees, no mountains, no vegetation, just a barren wasteland; even the sun had abandoned this place. It was a rather boring city, for it looked like it had been drained of color. The massive buildings and whirring technology, though mighty and intimidating, seemed at the same time only a drab façade, the gray steel and crumbling brick giving the city a rundown appearance. Even its people seemed to possess a gray tint to their skin. They were a gruff people, weathered by a lifetime of labor and poverty, their clothes bland and shabby, and the darkened roads and alleys were the playgrounds for the local children.

Julia's heart sank as her eyes took in this dreary place, and she longed for the laughter and brightness of Thade. How could people live like this? What had happened to this city?

"Here we are, men!" the commander announced, halting his soldiers, "Fox said he would meet us here; he should arrive shortly. Tomorrow at dawn we will regroup in the plaza. As of now, do as you like."

There were murmurs of satisfaction and relief as the soldiers went their separate ways, some to bars and motels, and others to restaurants and brothels (Yaro being one of them). Julia knew then that this was probably one of the enemy cities, for none of her captors were ransacking or killing people like they'd done to her village. Realizing this, Julia decided she hated Xerick, no matter how much pity she felt for its people.

"You," the commander snarled, turning his gaze to Julia, "don't think I've forgotten about you. You're coming with me."

The commander, a tall brute with a scarred face, seized the chain that bound her wrists and dragged Julia through the trash-riddled streets, leading her to a tall, dark building at the end of the road. A few minutes later they arrived, and after ascending several flights of stairs, the commander and his prisoner entered the last room at the end of the hall. The room was large, with two beds set side by side with other random pieces of furniture scattered here and there, and the walls were white, blinding and void of the slightest hues of color. The only hint of coloration in the room was a bouquet of wilted yellow roses, their once flawless petals now tinted a sickly brown, wrinkled, crispy, and torn at its edges. The water in the crystal vase had long evaporated. Overall, this dismal place reminded Julia of a prison cell for the mentally insane.

"This is General Fox's room. He should be arriving shortly to greet you," the commander rumbled as he tied the chain to a nearby column supporting the ceiling. The bouquet of dead roses stood on a table next to the column, just within reach of Julia's hands…

Before he left, he uttered, "Don't even think about trying to escape. Just remember that the only reason why you're not dead is because Helize and Fox are interested in you. Otherwise…"

The commander merely laughed softly.

"General Fox is merciless; he has killed thousands, and serves the Dark Mistress as no other does. You will soon wish that I'd killed you, for after he has his way with you you'll no longer be the brave little wench you show yourself to be," he sneered with amusement, then slammed the door shut.

As soon as he left, Julia immediately yanked at the chains that held her, trying in vain to find a means of escape. After pulling with all of her might at the chain several times, she knew it was useless and collapsed to the floor in surrender, and had no choice now but to wait for this "merciless" General Fox. For the first time since her abduction she now felt the fear enter her. This man named Fox was one of the ones responsible for her kidnap, and unlike his soldiers, he could do anything he liked with Julia.

_What does he want with me? Have I done something wrong? Why me and not someone else?_ Julia wondered, fear rippling through her body and clouding her senses.

The Native American woman closed her eyes, squeezing back the tears and the feelings of desperation and despair; she was trapped. Nursing her raw, bruised wrists, Julia prayed that Hwoarang would just find her soon.

**_The General's Two Tigresses..._**

"Tell me about your family."

Steve waited for Christie's answer, but the Brazilian woman remained stubbornly silent. She'd been strangely quiet for that past day's journey, and Steve's patience was just about up.

"Speak, woman, or do you wish to die?" he threatened, finally resorting to violence.

Christie glared at him, but reluctantly complied. "The old man you killed was my grandfather, and the other was my guardian and friend as well as my teacher."

She fell silent again, but Steve was relentless. "Tell me more."

Cursing him silently, she continued, "My grandfather was a Capoeira master and he taught my teacher and friend, Eddy Gordo, everything he knew. Eddy then became my mentor and passed down his knowledge. Occasionally Grandfather would help with my training."

"And what about your parents?" Steve asked, glancing over at her.

"My parents died when I was a small child. I don't remember them," she responded curtly.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Christie snorted, but held her sarcastic remarks in check. Instead, knowing that she needed to stay alive, the Brazilian continued with her story.

"Grandfather was a kind, gentle man, always patient with people, especially with me. He loved me dearly and hadn't hesitated to take me in when Mom and Dad had passed away."

A faraway look entered her eyes, and soon Christie forgot completely to whom she was telling the tale and why. It was simply the joy of remembering the loved ones she'd lost, and a small smile formed on her lips as images of Eddy and her grandfather entered her mind. Steve noticed this rare expression of happiness and savored it. She was awfully beautiful when she smiled, and the blonde man remained quiet as she spoke.

"I remember once how he used to reprimand me for speaking too much English. He was the only one of us three who spoke Portuguese regularly, and in this way he helped me maintain fluency in both languages. He taught me so many, many things."

Christie sighed as the memories rushed forth, her smile widening. "And then there's Eddy. He was like the older brother I never had, and the guy always looked out for me even when I was just as good a fighter as he was. Eddy was your typical tough guy, but that was only a front he put up with people he didn't know, 'cause at home he was as soft-hearted as Barydians come."

She laughed then, jubilantly, genuinely, and it was one of the few times Christie would ever allow herself to do so. Steve felt his heart clench at the noise, and he had to momentarily look away; he had nearly forgotten the sound of mirth. For though she was angry and bitter, Christie still managed to radiate with love and joy, and having been cloaked in darkness and violence his entire life, the blonde warrior found this fascinating.

"The man loved flowers, just loved them. Barydia was rampant with lilies, poppies, and bougainvillea, and sometimes Eddy would just go out in the fields by himself and sit with them. When I'd question him about it later, he'd always pretend he didn't know what the hell I was talking about."

A lump rose in her throat then, and she found that she could not speak. Images of the good memories, of Eddy's flowers and her grandfather's smiles, vanished as screams of terror entered her mind, as a sword plunged into Eddy's body, as her grandfather's limp body filled her arms, the smell of blood invading her nostrils…

"You loved them very much," came Steve's quiet reply, and Christie was instantly transported back to the present. The joy escaped her body, and now there was nothing but the fair-haired killer before her and the memories of her capture.

_No shit, asshole_, she snarled to herself, but merely nodded in response to the soldier. "They were all I had," she murmured, gritting her teeth in an effort to curb the anger.

_And I took them from you,_ Steve thought to himself as despair and sorrow gnawed at his heart. Christie's stories of her family had affected him deeply and Steve hated himself for feeling this way. He had killed so many families like hers so why should she be any different? The blonde man began to think that taking a prisoner hadn't been such a good idea after all. But his predicament was that though he knew he had to, he simply couldn't just kill Christie to solve the problem; he was much too involved now, much too curious.

_Why must you be so damn brave? So damn beautiful?_

He glared over at her in hopes that perhaps he'd grow to hate her…but when Christie met his glare head on without a flicker of fear in her face, Steve knew it was impossible. For a fleeting instant Steve considered apologizing to her for the massacre of her people and murder of her family, but as soon as the thought appeared, he dismissed it. He could not give in to such weaknesses; she was just an insignificant woman after all, and in the end he'd just have to kill her like he did everyone else. He was one of the men planting the seeds for Voira's future kingdom after all, and in her new world love was unimportant, foolish, and would "only bring weakness" to one's heart.

They arrived in Xerick a few minutes later and like Julia, Christie's heart sank at the sight of the city. While Steve's soldiers went their separate ways, the general hastily led his prisoner to the same building where Julia waited.

The Native American woman looked up as the door suddenly flew open and the blonde man, captive in tow, barged in. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, for due to her fear and the commander's warning, her imagination had created a very different image of this almighty General Fox. But instead of a ruthless, terrible brute of a killer, what she saw was a mere man, an ordinary mortal with calm blue eyes and a gentle mouth. He did not look like a murderer at all.

Julia then took notice of the woman standing beside Steve, noticed the rusted chains that bound her, and they exchanged looks of sympathy. Her eyes roving up and down Christie's body, Julia observed the numerous bruises and scratches on the Brazilian's skin, and the familiar fiery rage welled up within her once more. What had he done to this woman? What did he want with them? She wondered.

Without another moment to waste, Steve chained Christie alongside Julia then stood back to examine his captives. His eyes lingered on the Brazilian a second longer, then continued to Julia, the azure gaze peering at her in curiosity, and Steve wondered why Voira or Helize would take such an interest in a seemingly harmless woman. Her clothes were ragged, mud-smeared, and her body was weary from the journey and from the fear. Helize had claimed that she'd sensed power inside of the chief's daughter, but Steve doubted that this woman before him could possibly be a mage.

Cocking his head, Steve then noticed two white feathers woven expertly into the hairs at the nape of Julia's neck with tiny beads of turquoise. His curiosity got the best of him and leaned down to get a better look, his hand reaching out in hopes of touching the feathers. However, Julia instantly jerked her head back, and her leg lashed out, kicking Steve hard in the shin. The blonde man cried out in pain and immediately struck Julia across the face with the back of his hand. Fire erupted across her cheek and nose.

"Don't touch her!" Christie shrieked.

Though the pain burned her skin, Julia had not cried out. She refused to allow Steve the satisfaction. However, she had no desire to earn more bruises so the Native American woman could only narrow her eyes in silent challenge.

"Don't you dare touch her," the Brazilian snarled once more, fists balling, and Julia noticed how the blonde man's gaze flickered momentarily to Christie.

A long moment passed in which Steve merely stared at the Barydian woman, and it seemed to Julia, who sat by watching this whole exchange, that her dark-skinned companion had some strange hold over the general. Then to her puzzlement, instead of another punch to the face, Steve withdrew his hand and bowed his head to her in a kind of half-hearted apology. The commander or Yaro would surely have beaten Julia for being so bold, but this Fox, master of murderers, merely accepted her defiance.

But then Julia glanced again at the woman beside her and wondered if the general had done it only to satisfy the Brazilian. _Odd_, she thought, frowning, _this woman just saved my jaw from being broken. And why does he keep looking at her like that?_

"Two tigresses," Steve whispered to himself before leaving.

**_Julia's Plan..._**

A thunderstorm raged outside the distorted windowpanes, and Julia stared longingly out into the darkness beyond. Night had fallen and their blonde captor had not returned for several hours. Their wrists ached, bodies cramped from sitting on the ground for so long, but at least they had one another's company in the dreary gloom of their white prison cell.

"What's your name?" Christie asked.

"Julia Chang of Thade. And you are?"

"Christie Monteiro of the village Barydia."

"I heard the flowers are lovely there," Julia murmured.

"They are, but there are none left to admire their beauty. The blossoms have no purpose now but to decorate the gravestones of the dead," Christie replied, killing Julia's attempts at a decent conversation, and the dialogue died.

After that brief introduction the two women were silent for awhile, listening only to the violent rain outside and to the soft beatings of their hearts. Julia reached up to the table next to her, straining her arms, and managed to grasp the fragile vase in her hands. She gently removed the eight wilted blossoms, being careful not to cut her fingers from the razor sharp thorns that adorned the stems. Sighing, she caressed each rose with tender fingers; damn Steve for not taking better care of them, she thought as she inhaled the damp aroma of death.

However…they didn't have to be that way. But, glancing over at her companion, who sat so very close nearby, Julia decided not to risk it, and continued to absentmindedly stroke the dead yellow flowers.

"So what brings you here as a prisoner? I thought I was the only one," Julia inquired as lightning ravaged the sky, and her face lit up momentarily with the white light.

"I don't know. That blonde bastard and his men destroyed my village and killed my family. I am the only one left. Why he spared my life remains a mystery," Christie murmured, picking randomly at the blisters on the palms of her hands.

"I'm sorry," Julia replied, and Christie shrugged.

"There will be time to mourn the dead, but it is not now. We have to be strong."

The Native American woman sighed sadly in the darkness. "I wish I could be as brave as you."

At this Christie laughed harshly. "It is not courage, Julia, but anger. I wasn't always this way, for there's a madness within me. I live only for vengeance now."

"Don't we all," Julia uttered bitterly, her fists balling, "My mother was right; Elysium has changed…yet like you, I haven't shed a tear for it yet."

"That's because we're all worrying too much on how to keep ourselves alive. But don't worry, the tears will come," Christie replied, folding her hands over her knees, "just not now. Not now."

As Christie looked away, Julia thought about what her new friend had just told her. She was trying so hard to keep the sorrow at bay, to use revenge as a means of denying the pain. But Julia knew that if Christie didn't find a way to deal with it soon, then she too would fall to the same bitterness and hatred that had devoured Voira herself.

After a moment, Julia said, "He likes you."

"Hm?"

"That 'blonde bastard.' He likes you. Why else would he let you live? You've touched him."

Christie laughed again. "The only time I'll ever touch him is when I put a blade into his chest."

But Julia did not laugh at her new friend's bitterness. "Keep on doing whatever you're doing; it might be the only way you're going to survive. You should maybe even give him something he wants once in awhile to help prolong your life some."

"What are you saying, that I should sleep with him in order to live? Because there is no way in hell I will ever do that. You know men like him only want one thing from a woman," Christie said, and her face contorted in disgust.

The Native American nodded in agreement, but then suddenly turned to her friend, her eyes widening.

"You just gave me an idea," she rasped, keeping her voice low, and Christie stared at her curiously.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

A slight smile lit up Julia's face. "Do you know where he keeps his keys?"

"In his pants pocket. Why?" Christie inquired, throwing up her hands, unsure of what Julia was getting at.

The smile disappeared. "Chris, we're getting out of here tonight…but I need that key to unlock my chains. Somehow, you've gotta get him to take off his pants."

Christie laughed, shaking her head. "You're insane. I'm not a mage, so how exactly do you suppose I'll manage to do _that_?"

Julia merely stared at the Brazilian, then flashed her a weak, sad smile. Eyes widening in horror, Christie finally understood.

"No, never!" she cried, recoiling from Julia, "you can't be serious!"

"Please, it's our only chance. His attraction to you is our only defense right now, and if we don't risk it, we may never have our freedom again," Julia pleaded, but Christie continued to refuse.

"This is crazy. Why don't _you_ do it?"

"I would, but unfortunately the guy likes _you_, ok? Now will you do this or not?"

In response, Christie flashed Julia a hateful glare.

**_In a town far away, nearing mid-afternoon..._**

A tall figure approached, and his eyes narrowed as he took in the little town that lay in the valley bellow him. It was quaint and significantly smaller than Barydia had been, but the man knew that this was Steve's next target.

With his long, dark blue coat billowing in the slight evening breeze, spiky bangs falling over one eye, the warrior reached for his waist and unsheathed the long, slender sword—Oblivion, the blade of darkness. It was ironic that such a skillfully crafted weapon, a tool of such elegance and beauty, could at the same time take the lives of so many. He glanced at the second sword, Oath Keeper, blade of light, sheathed and strapped securely in place at his waist. Oath Keeper had its purposes but tonight it was Oblivion's turn to shine.

The man watched as a band of Steve's men entered the town from the opposite side; they were completely unaware of his presence. Tonight their leader rested in Xerick, and without him they would be powerless against the warrior and his dark sword.

Lives of the innocent would be taken this night, fire would devour the guilty, and their blood would send a warning to all those who still dared to taint the light. And afterwards, Oblivion in hand, the man would walk away with no regrets or burdens as he had always done.

**_Temptress: Steve's chambers..._**

Julia continued to talk to Christie, trying in vain to kill the time and the silence, while the Barydian scowled beside her, refusing to make eye-contact.

"This is Voira's bullshit, I know it," Julia growled, fists clenching as she continued to touch the roses, twirling them by the stem between her fingers.

"Voira?" Christie inquired. It was the first thing she'd said after hearing the Native American woman's plans of escape.

She nodded. "Voira, the dark sorceress. You know, the madwoman who murdered her husband and cursed her village."

Christie laughed. "_Her_? You've been reading way too many fantasy books, my friend. Voira's story is just a fairytale told to scare little kids into behaving. Everyone knows that."

"I don't think so. Perhaps you should ask Steve about her while you get into his pants."

"Screw you," growled Christie, crossing her arms while Julia laughed softly.

"You do know it's our only chance, right?" Julia stated after her laughter had abated.

"Nope. We could always kill him."

"With these chains on our wrists?"

"Shut up," Christie retorted, knowing the argument was useless, "and would you quit playing with those damn roses? They're dead for God's sake."

Julia smiled again. Christie sure had a temper on her.

Approaching footsteps outside the door warned the two women that their captor was finally returning. Both quickly silenced, waiting; the thunderstorm relentlessly raged on, and Julia quietly pushed the roses to the side.

As the door swung open, Steve flicked on the lights abruptly, making the two women squint as their darkness-accustomed eyes were forced to readjust to the harsh light. Face expressionless and blue eyes serene, Steve approached the two women, then took a seat on the ground in front of them, crossing his long legs. For a long while he studied his two captives silently, head slightly cocked to the side as his eyes took in every detail of the "tigresses" he had taken. Julia wondered what he was thinking right now, what he thought as he gazed again at the two feathers in her hair and as he stared long and hard at Christie.

After several minutes, he finally broke the silence by asking, "May I get you both anything? Water or food, a change of clothes? There are plenty of those things here in Xerick."

Julia remained defiantly silent, but Christie wasted no time.

"Come closer, and I'll tell you," she whispered.

The blonde general hesitated, brows furrowed, but when Christie's gaze did not falter from his, he obeyed and leaned in closer. And as his face came within inches of the Brazilian's, she leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. Julia's eyes widened only slightly, but then concealed her shock and pretended to look away.

Steve was taken aback, but both women noticed the heat rise in his face and the way his breathing slightly quickened. The blonde man began to recoil, but Christie quickly stopped him.

"Please, Sir. I know how you feel about me; I've seen your eyes on me. And I…" she swallowed, forcing out the words, "feel the same way too."

He laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I murdered your family. Unbound from these chains, I know that you only intend to kill me; I am not an idiot, Woman. You cannot seduce me."

Christie sighed, and Julia bit back a smile. She was a damn good actress, and the Native American woman kept quiet as she watched the show.

"Fine, don't trust me. But you see I have no weapon, and your men have weakened me with the journey to this city. All I want from you is one last kiss," she stated, staring up into Steve's face. Julia detected lust and desire in his dark blue irises, and she knew instantly that her brave friend had already won. All Steve had to do was agree to that simple kiss and he was doomed.

Yet still he hesitated. Years of training under Voira's care had taught him to be constantly wary, and Steve would not be easily deceived…or would he?

"Good night," he snarled, but Christie sensed the longing in his voice.

Finally, she put to use the tactic that she knew would make him hers, a tactic that seemed never to fail to affect that enormous ego men were known for.

"Are you _afraid_ to kiss me again, Steve? Is that it? Afraid you'll do bad?" she taunted as she disguised a smile.

And just as both women had predicted, the blonde man instantly returned and pressed his mouth firmly, almost violently, onto the Brazilian's.

Christie made sure it was passionate this time, her tongue bold and deft, mouth experienced and unashamed as it caressed the general's, and Steve found that he could not pull away. He continued to kiss her, breath coming in fast, sharp bursts, hands coming up to cup the Brazilian's face to further deepen the kiss. From afar it looked as if Christie was truly enjoying it; she even added a few moans to convince her captor of her pleasure. But Julia noticed the white knuckles on the clenched fists and the reddened cheeks as Christie struggled to keep her rage and disgust in control.

Reluctantly, the blonde pulled away, but only briefly…and that was to remove the single copper key from his left pants pocket. His fingers trembled as he undid the chains imprisoning Christie, hastily shoved the key back into his pocket, then lifted her up effortlessly in his arms and carried her to the nearest bed. Christie clung to the wide shoulders, feigning lust, yet as she flashed a look in Julia's direction there was only fear and desperation. Julia bit her lip, nodded once, then forced herself to watch, waiting for the right moment. To keep her focus, she continued to caress the dead roses one at a time until all eight of them had felt her touch, barely noticing their transformation…

"Take off your clothes," Christie rasped before kissing Steve fiercely on the mouth once more.

Christie was quite the temptress, for it seemed that those kisses always worked. Steve Fox, the merciless, powerful, feared right hand man of the dark sorceress yielded beneath the smooth touch and plastic kisses of a mere stranger, and both women watched in triumph as the boxer quickly removed his shirt, pants, and undergarments without hesitation. He set them neatly at the foot of the bed, but the Brazilian woman smoothly picked up the pile and flung them in Julia's direction…

"You too," he growled, impatient, barely noticing what Christie had just done.

"Patience, patience…" she purred with an artificial seductive smile as she forced him down onto the bed, stark naked, while she straddled him still fully clothed. Covering his body with hers, Christie flashed her friend a final glance, then continued her work.

Julia didn't waste anymore time. Watching as the Brazilian kept their captive distracted, she seized Steve's pants and swiftly removed the copper key. Undoing her shackles, Julia took only a brief moment to rub at her raw wrists where the metal had tattooed a red ring about them. The anger and survival instinct returning, she grasped the crystal vase that had once imprisoned the wilted yellow blossoms…

Clearing her throat, she gave the signal to her friend just as Steve's emboldened hands had crept up the Brazilian's shirt. In an instant Christie had leaped away from the blonde, and Julia's hand came down, shattering the vase across Steve's head. Glass shards flew in all directions, and the blonde man did not even cry out as he was thrown into unconsciousness. Blood trickled down from the cuts on his forehead, staining the white pillows crimson. Both women hauled the chains to the bed and bound their captor's hands together, then his legs, and Christie pocketed the key.

"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever done," Christie spat as she glared down at his naked, prostrate form, "damn, thank God you came when you did. I can still feel his hands on me…ugh!"

"Sorry. But hey, you were really good at it. I couldn't have done better," Julia replied, trying to make her feel better as she rechecked the tightness of the chains.

"Of course. That's one talent I'm extremely proud of," she stated, and Julia smiled at the sarcasm, "though I'll admit, he does have a nice physique."

Julia laughed again as Christie cocked her head, examining the blonde. "I thought you hated him," she smiled, and the Brazilian nodded.

"Well, I still do…just not his body," and both women laughed together. Hearing their laughter was a bit strange, awkward due to the circumstances, but they continued to release their joy anyway, knowing they had won.

Picking up Slayer, Steve's broadsword, from the ground, the Brazilian smiled maliciously. "Well, well, well, look at what I found…can I castrate him?"

Julia choked back her laughter, but reluctantly shook her head. "We don't have time, and the pain might wake him up. Let's focus on escaping first."

The two fugitives then opened the window and climbed out one at a time. The thunderstorm still had not ceased, but Julia was grateful, for the violent weather would help keep them hidden as they made their escape. As they ran full speed through the rain, cloaked in the night, Julia and Christie inhaled deeply the freedom they had missed for so long.

**_Two hours later…_**

"Damn those whores!"

Steve, who was now fully clothed and wore a bandage on his battered forehead, paced his room back and forth, letting loose several strings of curses. Four of his men stood before him, unsure of what to do or how to react to their leader's distress; they all feared him too greatly to offer any advice. Just an hour after Julia and Christie had escaped, they had discovered him unconscious and had had to wait another hour for their general to snap out of his spell.

Soon, the blonde man had calmed some, and instead of curses, he emitted laughter. As it heightened to a deafening crescendo, his men exchanged worried glances over their clearly disturbed leader.

His laughter softening, Steve murmured, "Oh, she got me. They both did. Steve Fox duped by a pair of crafty slags. Was I that desperate for a shag? Then again, it wasn't just any ordinary woman either; it wouldn't have been an ordinary shag."

According to Voira, love equated to weakness. But did the same go for lust? Steve questioned as he thought to himself. Surely not, for it was lust that Christie had used to her advantage to win her freedom. But the blonde then wondered if it had been solely lust that had driven him to touch Christie, to long for her.

Returning to the grim, serious general he'd been trained to be, the blonde man ordered his men to round up a group of seven men to hunt down Julia and Christie.

"I want them found tomorrow, understand? If you fail I shall personally execute you all myself—that is, if Voira doesn't get to you first. Now go!" he cried, dismissing them all with a flick of his hand.

As his soldiers left him, a wry smile still played across his mouth. It shouldn't have amused him, but it did, for once again Christie had shown him that wild, untamable fire she possessed. Something about her was so fiercely attractive that, even though she'd manage to outwit him, her actions only further drew Steve closer to the Brazilian.

"Bloody hell!" he cried out softly as several thorns imbedded themselves into his foot. Blood oozed from the cuts, and Steve staggered backward onto the bed.

Except all feelings of the pain died as he caught a glimpse of the roses, a few of their thorns stained scarlet with his blood. He remembered vividly that he hadn't ever bothered to water them or change the water they'd been originally kept in. Steve had never cared for nature much at all, and so turned a blind eye when the lovely blooms had shriveled into hard, crusty shells. He even saw them himself, dead with the once sunshine-yellow heads drooping and tinted a decayed brown, and had done nothing.

And yet, as he stared down at the eight scattered roses, they were anything but wilted. In fact, the yellow petals were soft once more, as flawless and beautiful as when they'd first been plucked from the earth. The leaves were a healthy, vibrant green, the thorns ever redder and sharper, the scent of the blossoms strong and sweet, and even a few new buds had begun to sprout from the smooth stems. They'd been restored to their original brilliance and more.

He stared at them, wondering if one of the Xerickan maids had finally decided to change the bouquet, but knew that that was unlikely. Tentatively, he picked up one of the roses by the blossom, and cried out in pain, immediately releasing it.

For the flawless, renewed petals had burned his flesh like fire. And as he stared at the flowers, keeping a safe distance, he wondered again about the woman with the white feathers in her hair. Perhaps Helize had been right. Maybe this woman from Thade really wasn't what she seemed to be.

**_Later on…_**

Helize arrived in Xerick soon afterwards to join Steve in his massacres while his seven men searched for the two captives. Their next target was Mirun, one of the smaller villages in Elysium, yet also one of the most peaceful next to Thade. Mirun's people never initiated wars, never fought or murdered, and tried to lead a quiet life away from the world's evils.

That was why the man had chosen it, for not only was it Steve's next target, but it was also the ultimate blow to innocence and goodness.

Since Steve had already sent out a band of his men to take care of Mirun, he and Helize were only there to regroup with his soldiers and continue the journey. He was pleased when he came upon the village and found only ruins and fire devouring its homes—but he hadn't been prepared for the scores of his own men lying dead on the blood-soaked earth.

Bodies were strewn everywhere; the ground was covered with them. Women, men, and children, Mirun's people and Steve's soldiers alike. Who had done this? A few casualties were expected, but it seemed as if Steve's entire band of men had been wiped out.

"God help us," Steve whispered, collapsing to his knees in puzzlement and despair, "what madness has occurred here?"

The general was answered by a barely audible moan coming from his side. One of his soldiers, with his own sword protruding from his chest, moaned again as he reached out to his leader with a bloodied hand.

"Kale!" Steve cried as he hurried to his side, "What the hell happened here?"

The blonde man stared down at his doomed comrade and shut his eyes momentarily, knowing that his life was nearly gone.

Kale gripped his leader's arm tightly, blood leaking out from his mouth. "He…he got here before us and…waited. He waited, then came…out of nowhere."

"Who! Who did this to you!" Steve cried, seizing Kale by the shirt collar.

"Dark…blue coat…dark eyes, like a demon…a sword…he's a traitor."

Kale began to fade, but Steve shook him violently, tears threatening to emerge. "No, wait! Kale you must tell me more. Did you recognize him?"

"He's a traitor…"

"Give me a name! Can you give me a name?"

Blood oozed from the soldier's wounds and mouth as he died. "Krad, it was Krad. He killed…everybody…everybody…"

With that Kale died, his hazel eyes lifeless as death took him into her arms. Steve gently closed the eyelids and stood up, surveying the disaster wrought by Krad. Why would he do such a thing? Wasn't his allegiance to the dark sorceress? If so, then what was the meaning of this mass murder of Steve's men?

"I found this."

Turning, the blonde general noticed Helize standing before him with a piece of paper clutched in her hand. Her dark eyes flickered momentarily with a red tint, and she gestured for Steve to take the paper. As he looked at it, Steve noticed that it was written in a strange red ink, and there were several spots where it had dripped and smeared across the paper.

However, after taking a closer look, the blonde man knew it wasn't ink.

"This is blood," he stated through gritted teeth, and Helize merely looked away.

Returning to the note, Steve began to read Krad's macabre message.

_Too long has the darkness raped the light. Too long have we all stood by idly as the balance was disturbed. Too long have you taken the lives of the good without considering the consequences. I have spilled the blood of the innocent and of the tainted as a warning to you all. Continue to destroy the light, and I will come and take the darkness that you thrive upon until there shall be no more. For a long time I have stood by and merely watched as you have killed and burned, but I will not allow it anymore._

_I will take lives whether they be innocent or evil. I am neither darkness nor light, but I am not afraid to kill in the name of either. Remember this day well._

_Krad _


End file.
